The sound of thunder roared through the night, shaking the windows of the small house.
A small boy, barely five years old, sat trembling in his dark room.
His knees were pulled tightly to his chest, and his tiny hands clutched his ears as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Ammi!" he cried out, his voice cracking with fear.
"Ammi, please!" But his pleas were met with silence.
He looked at the door, hoping it would swing open and his mother would rush to comfort him, but it never did.
Defeated, he buried his face into his knees, sobbing quietly, his little body shaking with each hiccup.
The storm outside mirrored the turmoil in his heart.
He felt utterly alone.
Suddenly, the faint sound of voices and laughter reached his ears, muffled but unmistakable.
He wiped his face with his pajama sleeve and tiptoed to the door.
Slowly, he opened it and peered out, his curiosity overtaking his fear.
In the hall, his mother stood with a man he didn't recognize.
She was smiling and laughing in a way he'd never seen her do before.
A pang of confusion and hurt shot through his chest.
"Ammi!" he called out, running toward her.
Relief filled him momentarily; she was here!
She would hold him and make the fear go away.
But instead of bending down to comfort him, she pushed him away harshly.
The boy stumbled back, shock and hurt clouding his innocent eyes.
"I am not your mother!" she spat, venom dripping from her voice. "Just because of you, I can't enjoy my life. Meri kismat hi kharab thi jo tumhare baap se shaadi ki!"
("My fate was doomed the moment I married your father!")
The little boy's lips quivered, and fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
Before he could say anything, his father, Mehmood, appeared at the doorway.
His presence was like a shield of warmth and safety.
Without hesitation, the boy ran to him, his tiny arms wrapping tightly around his father's neck.
Mehmood picked him up, his strong arms cradling the boy protectively.
He glared at the woman and the man with a fury that could melt steel.
"Shhh, beta," Mehmood whispered to his son, stroking his back gently. "Rone ki zarurat nahi. Main hoon na! Baba sab thik kar denge."
("Shhh, my child. There's no need to cry. I'm here, aren't I? Your Baba will make everything right.")
He kissed the boy's forehead and murmured soft reassurances until the sobs subsided.
Placing him down, Mehmood gently nudged him toward the stairs.
"Go to your room, beta. Main abhi aata hoon," he said softly.
("Go to your room, my child. I'll be there soon.")
The boy hesitated but obeyed, his small feet padding up the stairs.
YOU ARE READING
Tera Deedar Hua ??? ?
Short Story??Yun tera muskurana, Aur aake chale jaana Kismat ka hai khul jaana Tera Deedar Hua, Pehla sa pyar hua Pehli hi baar hua iss dil ko Naa toh inqaar hua Naa hi iqraar hua Jaane kya yaar hua iss dil ko?? Hello Everyone! This is the fourth Book in S...
